


When the Beginning is An Ending

by WennyT



Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Angst, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, Marvel Universe, Pseudo Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WennyT/pseuds/WennyT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... and the ending is a beginning. A HoMin-is-ThorKi oneshot, the first in a collection set in Marvel Cinematic Universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Beginning is An Ending

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sohii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohii/gifts).



* * *

Yunho’s first memory of Changmin is thus: of his father Odin, bringing a small, slightly blue-faced baby boy back with him from one of his battles, a precious scrap of life draped in rags and cradled in his father’s battle-scarred hands.

 

“This is your baby brother, Yunho,” Odin tells him, as he passes the tiny bundle to Yunho’s mother, Frigga. “His name is Changmin. Protect him well.”

 

“Yes, Father,” Yunho promises, a little worried by the odd colour the baby was sporting. Babies in Asgard, or the ones he has seen, are usually of pink cheek and healthy lungs. But his new baby brother is silent and pale, round eyes open and alert. “Is he all right?”

 

“He’s all right, Yunho.” Odin smiles down at him, curving a hand around his son’s fair head. “He wasn’t before, but now he has you, and you’ll make sure he’ll be all right, won’t you?”

 

“Yes, Father,” Yunho repeats, stretching a curious hand to stroke at the baby’s cheek. The infant’s eyes widen, then crinkle, as he lets out a happy sounding gurgle. Yunho smiles, trailing his finger to his younger brother’s nose, and the smile turns into outright laughter as the latter seizes his finger in a surprisingly strong grip. Yunho thinks he loves Changmin, already. “I’ll make sure.”

 

 

 

* * *

  

Changmin’s first memory of Yunho is thus: of him crying, at the age of four-and-a-half, upset because his elder brother has to attend classes with his tutors, instead of playing Hide-and-Go-Seek with him.

 

“But I don’t want you to go, Brother,” Changmin whines, tugging on his brother’s robes. A mere two years older than him Yunho may be, but the two years separate them by more than a few inches, and Changmin barely comes up to Yunho’s chest.

 

Sometimes Changmin gets angry, when the sons of the officials in their father’s court taunt him and call him a runt, but Yunho is always there, fierce and protective, striking out physically and verbally at them. But sometimes Changmin is grateful for his height, or lack thereof, because it allows him to creep into his brother’s bed unnoticed by the sentry guards in deep night, when the monsters from his nightmares torment him.

 

Changmin does not know why he dreams of them, but he does. Great lumps of misshaped ice, leering at him, reaching for him, always, always pursuing him. They go away whenever Yunho tightens his arms about Changmin, though, with a sleepy, “nightmares again, Changmin? I’ll chase them away from you, don’t worry.”

 

But that does not matter. What matters now is that he wants Yunho to play with him. Changmin blinks, looking back up at his brother, “please, Brother, please, please”.

 

But his mother comes to take his hand, pulling it gently away from Yunho. “Darling, your brother has to attend his classes, or the Allfather will be angry. Be good, now.”

 

“No,” Changmin says, stubbornly. He wants his brother to play with him, and the Allfather— _their_  father should want it too, because it makes Changmin happy. “No, no, no, no,  _no_!”

 

“It’s fine, Mother,” Yunho cuts in quickly, reaching for Changmin’s hand. He crouches down, and Changmin is pleased, because he gets to look down at his elder brother, for once, instead of craning his head back all the time. “I tell you what, little Changmin. You’re going to go with me to class, and you’re going to sit there and play quietly, until sundown, when I am done, yes? Then we will play Hide-and-Go-Seek. What say you?”

 

Changmin throws his arms around Yunho, excited that he is finally going to see how Yunho’s mysterious classes are like, and that they are to play after that, too. “Yes, yes! Love you best, Brother!”

 

“I know you do,” Yunho murmurs fondly, patting him once on the cheek, before standing up. He meets his mother’s disapproving eyes and shakes his head slightly. “I know what I’m doing, Mother.”

 

Frigga hesitates, and sighs, patting her elder son on his head. “I know you think you do. Just… Behave, both of you.”

 

She reaches out a hand to Changmin, raising her voice slightly. “Now, my little prince, shall we proceed to your bedchamber to get your toys before going with your brother to the library?”

 

Changmin narrows his eyes at Frigga in contemplation, although he takes her hand. “Promise we’ll come back for Brother?”

 

“Yes, darling,” Frigga laughs, pulling him to her. “We’ll come back for your brother in a while, don’t you worry.”

 

 

  

* * *

 

 

Yunho is one hundred and sixty nine when he realizes that Changmin’s love for him has changed from that of brotherliness to something…  _different_.

 

It happens when he is injured, stabbed in the chest by a rebel Álfar during a battle on Álfheimr in an attempt to aid their monarch in ending the civil war that is consuming the elves. Distracted because he had turned to check how his soldiers are faring in battle, Yunho does not quite see his assailant until the last moment. His reflexes save him, as he twists, so that the long-sword lodges itself in the centre of his chest, rather than his heart.

 

He gasps, the pain ripping through him like white hot fire, and tries to swing his hammer at the elf, but it explodes in a rather grisly shower of charred bits, most of which landing on his person.

 

He sees Changmin, dark with fury, a few metres away, hands outstretched with tendrils of blue magick still curling about them. “You fool,” his younger brother snaps, striding towards him. “Have you forgotten Heimdallr’s teachings? First lesson, Brother: always keep your eyes open and about you during battle. This isn’t the time for you to be woolgathering.”

 

“I was not  _woolgathering_ ,” Yunho returns, slightly stung, and he tries to draw a breath to continue his retort but finds himself on the ground a second later, instead. Changmin’s panicked face looms in his vision, eyes wide with fear and anxiety.

 

“I’m fine—” Yunho starts, trying to sit up, but Changmin presses him back down with a hand, snapping out a brusque, “be  _still_.”

 

“’Tis naught but a scratch,” Yunho tries again, but Changmin levels a look of barely leashed fury at him, and Yunho is so astonished that he actually complies.

 

Changmin wraps a hand about Yunho’s arm, and squeezes; they find themselves in a secluded clearing, away from the fighting. Yunho opens his mouth to protest, wanting to get back to the battle, but a painful shout escapes him as Changmin grasps at the end of the long-sword and pulls, staggering back slightly as it slides free from Yunho’s flesh with a squelch.

 

“Damnation!” Yunho chokes out from behind gritted teeth. “You could have warned me.”

 

“Would it have made it any better?” Retorts Changmin, as he tosses the bloodied long-sword away and reaches for Yunho. He undoes the ties to Yunho’s armour with practiced ease, hissing as the layers of outerwear fall away to reveal Yunho’s inner robes soaked with blood. “A scratch, you said.”

 

“We need to head back, Changmin, our men need us!” Yunho surges upward again, but Changmin is stronger, and Yunho gapes as his brother presses his hand into Yunho’s bare chest, fingertips digging in, undeterred by the hot wash of blood between the skin of his palm and Yunho's chest. “Not before I heal you,  _Brother_.”

 

The word is suffused with mockery and something else, something that Yunho doesn’t quite understand but Changmin healing him in times of battle is an occurrence that has happened oftentimes, so Yunho complies, lying back down on the ground.

 

He jolts upright again, shocked and startled and just a little afraid, when Changmin presses his lips instead of his hands onto Yunho’s bare chest. “Changmin—”

 

“Settle down, brother,” Changmin murmurs, eyes dark and hot with– something. Yunho looks away, even as his brother continues, “You shouldn’t fidget so when I am but trying to heal you.”

 

“I— yes,” Yunho says, eyes trained steadfastly at the trees above and about them.

 

 

 

* * *

 

Changmin is two hundred and twenty five when his world shatters around him, rendered null and void by a few sentences. The words come quite unexpectedly; so sudden were their exit that even the Allfather looks startled upon hearing them spoken from his own lips.

 

“— _should have known your true nature would show itself sooner or later_!”

 

Silence falls, blanketing the great hall in a pregnant hush.

 

“My true nature?” Changmin repeats, several suspicions, suspicions he has always had echoing through his mind, every incident where he had been called different, had labelled as a runt, every whisper he had heard against him replay in his head. “My true nature? What do you mean by that, Father, pray tell?”

 

Odin sucks in a breath, and another. Then he staggers back against his majestic throne, looking far too old and weary from how he was some seconds ago. He waves a hand as he settles into his throne. “That is to be forgotten. ’Tis naught of consequence.”

 

“I cannot,” Changmin persists, taking a step forward. Beside him, Yunho makes a sound low in his throat, but Changmin ignores the hand his elder brother has fisted in his cloak. “’Tis of consequence. What do you mean by my ‘true’ nature? Is my nature not what it is? As you see before you? If it is not, what is my true nature then? And why have you implied it to be hidden?”

 

“I said, it is to be forgotten!” The Allfather thunders, and Changmin thinks Odin’s face alien with rage, unlike what he has ever seen before. “I will not. ’Tis out before us, is it not? How can it be forgotten now? Is my nature not endowed by you and Mother? Is my nature not similar to my brother, your eldest son, your  _beloved_  Yunho—”

 

“Do not speak of your brother thus!” Odin clenches his hand about his spear, anger stark in every feature. “He has always been your staunchest protector, and you have no right to—”

 

“I have every right,” Changmin interrupts, voice also rising in volume, “when the amount of care my father spares for his eldest and his youngest are so disproportionate—”

 

“ _You_  are no son of mine,  _jǫtunn_!”

 

“Ah, now we have it. At last.” Changmin smiles without mirth. He can feel the hand Yunho has wrapped in his cloak, in Changmin’s cloak, trembling.  His mother—nay, not his mother;  _Yunho’s_  mother’s face is pale, and she has her arms wrapped about herself, but Changmin does not care. “At last we have it, directly from your lips, Fa—I beg your pardon,  _Odin_.”

 

He wrenches Yunho’s hand off of his cloak, flings it away. And when he strides from the hall, no one dares to stop him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

Changmin makes for the Bifröst mechanically, not stopping until Heimdallr steps in front of him.

 

“ _Move_.”

 

“I cannot, my prince,” Heimdallr intones, hands clasped before him. “All in Asgard must have the permission of the Allfather before—”

 

“Not I,” Changmin utters viciously, even as his magick snakes blue streaks about the unconscious heap that is Heimdallr. “Not I, when  _I_  am not of Asgard.”

 

He reaches for Heimdallr’s sword, ready to activate the Bifröst, when he turns, sensing something. It is Yunho standing behind him, weaponless and silent.

 

“Come to beg me not to go?” Changmin bares his teeth in a parody of a smile. “Or to shun and mark me as the enemy that I am?”

 

“If I wish you to stay, would you not go?” Counters Yunho, gaze unblinking. Changmin steps up to him, till barely an inch separates them. He presses close, closer, until Yunho and he are eye to eye, nose to nose.

 

“No,” Changmin mouths more than say the word, feeling Yunho’s breaths strike his lips. “No, I would not.”

 

“I thought so,” Yunho says sadly, trying to step back, but Changmin does not let him. He pushes aggressively against Yunho, mindful of how Heimdallr is insensible not far from them.

 

“You once rejected me because you claimed we were brothers,” Changmin whispers, lips almost touching Yunho’s. “Now the truth is out. We are not. Will you accept me then?”

 

“You will always be my brother, blood or not,” is Yunho’s reply, his gaze unwavering and voice steady.

 

“I am not your brother!” Changmin hisses in fury, and catches Yunho’s mouth in a bruising kiss, too harsh to be anything but a punishment. He nips at his elder b— at  _Yunho’s_  bottom lip, and bites down, grinning savagely as he tastes copper.

 

“ _No_!” Yunho rips away from him all too soon, swiping a sleeve across his mouth; and Changmin sneers, a mocking curve upon his lips. He turns, grabbing for Heimdallr’s sword, and drives it home into the Bifröst, not turning even as he speaks what would be his last sentence to Yunho in a long, long time.

 

“Goodbye,  _Brother_.”

 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Written because Sofia wants a Homin-is-ThorKi AU, and because Hiddleston was smashing in the new Thor film and gave me a lot of unwanted emotions. Feedback and comments are, as always, extremely appreciated.


End file.
